


Pewter and Gold

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (and for Curufin for that matter), Actual decent father Curufin, Curvo's forge rules, Father-Son Relationship, Feanor's distinct presence despite being not present, Gen, Jewelry, Magpie Tyelpe, Reminiscing, The rare feel-good fic for Tyelpe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:25:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celebrimbor and Curufin, father/son conversations in the forge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pewter and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cygnete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygnete/gifts).



> 0\. Silje and I sometimes have ferocious headcanon jams via text message in which we beat each other senseless with feels and then she disappears to draw and I disappear to write and then we see what happens.
> 
> That unholy union brought forth this little thing. I should just credit her as co-author, since the hcs contained are fully half hers, and those that are mine would not have happened without her. Thanks, love.

“Stop.” Curufin held out a hand as Celebrimbor made to enter the forge.

Celebrimbor halted and looked warily at his father. “Yes?”

Curufin raised his eyebrows and pointed to the shallow bowl beside the door. “You know the drill.”

Celebrimbor let out a heartfelt sigh. “Atar, I have never once had any problems.”

“Exactly. Because I have enforced the bowl rule.”

“Honestly, Uncle Moryo tells me that when the dwarves forge, they never remove their – ”

“That is because their hardware is soldered in. If you want to put bolts through your nose and nipples, by all means do so.”

Celebrimbor gave his father a Look, and then began removing his jewelry, placing it piece by piece in the pewter bowl as Curufin looked on approvingly.

“You are so rigid, I swear.”

“My forge, my rules. And if I wish to make rules that keep my son from losing a hand, or an earlobe…” Curufin watched with growing incredulity as the bowl filled up. “How many bangles do you need?”

Celebrimbor flushed. “They aren’t  _bangles_ , they are arm bands. And…two.” He pulled off several rings as well, letting them fall into the bowl.

Curufin leaned over to look, interested despite himself. “Dainty work on those.”

“Thank you, they are my own design.”

“Hm. Impractical, but – ”

“Yes, Atar, I know.”

“But handsomely made.” Curufin watched his son unfasten a chain from around his neck, and pull a cuff from his ear. “I haven’t seen those earrings before.”

Celebrimbor dropped the cuff and the chain into the bowl and fingered the discs at his ears. “Yes, they’re…They’re new.”

“Your own design as well?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

“I know, Atar, hopelessly decadent…”

“It’s just a different style for you.”

“I’m experimenting.” Celebrimbor touched the discs again, but before he could remove them, his father was speaking again.

“Your grandfather had quite an appreciation for fine jewelry.”

Celebrimbor stilled. Every time Curufin spoke of Fëanor, the air seemed to grow heavier around them, and Celebrimbor held his breath, as if he were present at some sort of religious rite.

“I mean, of course he did. He was more reserved in his day to day wear than you are, but still, he thought it was the ideal way to show off good craftsmanship. And he said that a well-made ornament could heighten and emphasize that which was already beautiful.” Curufin smiled faintly, at something that was not there in the room with them. “He wanted me to…dress up more, for feast days and the like. He wished all to admire his craftsmanship – both in jewelry, and in sons, and he made spectacular pieces for me to wear.” Curufin ran a finger against the lip of the bowl. “Of course, I refused. I hated the weight of bracelets, the strangling pull of necklaces. I refused to let him pierce my ears, and circlets gave me headaches. I would grow miserable at the thought of wearing such ornaments, but more miserable still at the idea of disappointing him.”

“I know the feeling,” mumbled Celebrimbor.

“But he took me aside,” Curufin went on, his finger still running around the edge of the bowl, making it hum. “And he told me that he had no desire to force me to do anything that would make me unhappy.” Curufin smiled, a true smile, and it lit his face in a way that made Celebrimbor ache, suddenly, for something long gone. “And he said that I was beautiful enough without adornments, and not to worry about it. That I could never let him down, not least in so small a way.”

Curufin looked back at Celebrimbor, suddenly businesslike once more. “Keep the earrings on,” he said briskly. “They are well made, and they suit you. And besides,” he said, turning towards the forge, as Celebrimbor looked after him, surprised and gratified, “I cannot resent anything that makes my already very fine craftsmanship even more beautiful.”


End file.
